


You Can’t Drink Alone On Your Birthday

by ambercreek95



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bartender Craig, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff, Happy Birthday Tweek, M/M, This is basically just Craig and Tweek flirting for 4000 words, craigxtweek, creek - Freeform, dive bar, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25952521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambercreek95/pseuds/ambercreek95
Summary: It's Tweek's birthday and once again, his parents have successfully ruined it. At least he can drown his sorrows at the grimey dive bar down the road.For Craig, it's another boring night working behind the bar. Luckily for him, the eccentric blonde who has just walked in is anything but boring.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Comments: 27
Kudos: 110





	You Can’t Drink Alone On Your Birthday

The bar is a dump.

It’s dark, dank, and smells like regurgitated tequila, but the young man who has just walked through the door doesn’t care about any of that. All he cares about is if the bar serves cheap rum that will help erase tonight from his memory.

He hoists himself up on a bar stool and drops his messenger bag on the floor without regard for what kind of fluids it may now be marinating in. He rests his forehead in the palm of his left hand as his right hand signals the bartender to come over to him and to please,  _ for the love of all that is good,  _ get him a sorely needed drink.

Craig smirks. He knows a broken man when he sees one, and there’s only one thing that a broken man wants in a place like this. He puts down the glass he was drying and moves towards the figure slouched over the counter.

“What’s your poison?” Craig asks to the unruly mop of curly blonde hair that he is faced with, now that the man has his face buried in both of his hands. 

“Captain Morgan and dry thanks, and can you make it a double?” the muffled voice replies.

Craig grabs the bottle from the top shelf, amber liquid sloshing inside. He free pours what is most likely closer to three shots than two into the tumbler. Craig feels like the man sat at the bar who still hasn’t looked up from his palms won’t mind him being a bit liberal with his measurements. He then grabs the soda gun, pressing the button labelled ‘G’ and filling the rest of the glass up with dry ginger ale.

“Ice or lime?”

“Lime, no ice” 

Craig squeezes the juice out of the green citrus before unceremoniously dropping the whole wedge into the drink before sliding it across the bar and towards the man whose head is still hung dejectedly in his hands.

The blonde patron doesn’t look up at the arrival of his drink. All he does is grab a straw, mumble a half-assed thanks and then greedily polish off half of the glass in one fell swoop. When his lips release the plastic straw, he groans, crossing his arms and dropping his head into the crook of his right elbow. 

Craig has never been a good conversationalist. It’s one of his least favourite parts of the job; being expected to interact with customers and act interested in their lives. He also doesn’t have a lot of empathy for his fellow man, especially the ones that normally grace this dump of an establishment as he finds the people that are drawn to a place like this are normally sad, shallow and self centered and their problems are insignificant. Being kicked out of home at the age of 16 with nowhere to go gave Craig a short fuse when it came to people complaining about their cushy lives and their petty arguments.

With all that in mind though, Craig can’t help but feel a little sorry for the mop of blonde hair in front of him.

“Rough day?”

The figure finally lifted their head and gave Craig a look of  _ what the fuck do you think, idiot. _

Craig didn’t even really notice that though. The only thing he could focus on was the incredible electric blue irises of the man in front of him. He had never seen eyes that particular shade of blue before. The next that struck him was the dark purple shadows shaped in crescent moons underneath those enormous eyes. He looked like he hadn’t had a proper night sleep in… well... ever. Other than the dark circles, his skin was smooth and flawless, stretched across angular cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He had thick blonde eyebrows and full pink lips and a ski slope nose. All in all, the man was striking and Craig was speechless. 

The man at the bar seemed to mistake Craig’s silence for offense. His expression immediately melted into one of guilt. “I… I’m sorry,” he said solemnly, “that was unfair of me. I sh-shouldn’t take my bad mood out on you. You’re just doing your job and I’m making your life harder and I hate when people come into my work and use their shitty day as an excuse to yell at people who are just trying to make a living because it’s so unfair and-”

He’s rambling now and he knows it but he can’t seem to get his tongue to stop. That is, until the tall, dark-haired bartender reaches across the bar and rests his large warm hand on the blonde’s forearm. “Take a breath, man.” Tweek takes a long slow breath in for the count of four and then back out for the count of four. “Great, now take another drink,” he says, nodding at the half full tumblr in front of them.

The blonde nods curtly once before reaching for the drink and downing the remaining liquid in one go. 

“Another?” 

“Please.” he says, offering a weak smile.

“Coming right up.” The tall figure behind the bar grabs the bottle of rum again and starts pouring. “But, I am going to have to ask you to pay for your drinks now. We don’t do tabs here anymore after too many dropkicks with maxed out credit cards drinking more than they can afford.”

“Oh, shit! Sorry, I should have done that before.” The blonde pulls his now soggy messenger bag up onto the counter and digs his wallet out before holding his debit card out towards the bartender. Craig exchanges the topped up tumbler for the debit card held in long freckled fingers.

“No stress.” Craig plugs in the order, only charging him for 2 singles and not the doubles that he gave him and swipes the card through the machine. Once the transaction has cleared, he takes a pointed look at the name on the card before handing it back over.

“Tweek?” he says, puzzled.

Tweek rolls his eyes, “I know, right. It’s an idiotic fucking name.” He takes another sip of his drink, savouring the burn of the rum as it slides down his throat. He wonders how much percentage of the glass is alcohol and how much is mixer. He then ponders how many more he would need to forget the first half of his evening.

Craig smirks at him. “It’s not  _ that  _ bad.”

Tweek gives him another pointed look. “Says you! You probably have a nice, regular name like Tim, or Ben or-”

“Craig?” The raven haired man smirks again.

“Exactly!” Tweek laughs high pitched but heartily, “Craig is a normal name, unlike fucking  _ Tweek. _ I should have sued my parents for making me live with a name like that.”

Craig likes his laugh. It’s kind of dorky but it’s genuine and that makes Craig chuckle along to. “So then Tweek, what has you coming to this dump to drown your sorrows?”

Tweek sighs heavily, grabbing one of the paper coasters on the bar to fidget with. “I live just down the road. I’ve never been in here before but I knew that if I was gonna get so shit faced that I could successfully forget today, then I wanted to be somewhere within walking distance of my apartment.” Tweek is tearing the coaster into tiny little squares, amassing a pile of beer-soaked confetti on the counter. “I was forced into having dinner with my parents tonight even though I tried to get out of it because I can barely tolerate them at the best of times, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer. So I had to sit there and endure 2 and a half hours of my Dad berating me for moving away from home and for doing an arts degree and not a business degree like what he wanted because in his eyes, I,” Tweek makes air quotes with his long slender fingers, “‘ _ should be taking over the family business.’ _ ”

Craig hums empathetically, wiping down the counter. Tweek continues, “and the second he moves on from how i'm not fulfilling my familial duty or whatever, my mum then starts in on asking me if I have a boyfriend yet and why I don’t, and how  _ ‘Claudia, from yoga, her nephew is gay and available, do you want me to set you up?’ _ ” Tweek imitates a high pitched, motherly voice. “Like I would actually want that! I’m perfectly capable of finding my own men to date, thank you very much.” 

In the middle of Tweek’s tirade, Craig stops wiping down the counter and stares at him. It’s a shocked and probing look that had Tweek feeling uneasy under the gaze of those deep brown eyes. It was like Craig was trying to read the writing on the inside of the blonde’s skull. “Fuck, you’re not a homophobe, are you?” Tweek came to the sudden realisation that talking loudly about his preference for men in a shady dive bar was probably not the best idea and almost definitely the reason why the bartender looked so uncomfortable.

Craig was jolted out of his stupor by the accusatory question. “NO! No no no, I’m not a homophobe!” The blonde couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“Good,” he says relieved.Tweek smirks at how frazzled he made Craig, “I was just starting to enjoy your company. It would be a shame if you turned out to be a raging bigot.”

Craig busies himself making another drink. “You’re enjoying my company? I don’t get that very often.” Craig chuckles mirthlessly, sliding the third double rum and dry across the counter and trying to figure out where this slender man got such a high alcohol tolerance. He decides to try redirecting the conversation. “If you don’t like your parents, why did you have dinner with them tonight? Why not just avoid them all together?”

Tweek let out a derisive laugh, “because, Craig, today just happens to be my birthday... woohoo.” He twirls his right index finger around in the air in a sarcastic show of joviality and he hands over his debit card with his left.

Craig places Tweek’s card back on the counter and slides it back towards the blonde, smiling widely at him in a rare display for the noirette. “Shit dude, happy birthday. Next drink’s on me then.” 

A small, shy smile graces Tweeks face. “You don’t have to do that, but thanks.” He places the plastic straw between his lips and takes a slow sip. He’s sure it’s just his imagination, but the pseudo-birthday gift of his third drink seems to taste even sweeter than the last two.

Craig feels heat crawl into his cheeks from the smile Tweek was directing his way. “Not a problem. It’s the least I can do... I’m sorry your birthday has been such a shit show thanks to your parents.”

Tweek shrugs, “Eh, I guess that’s family though, right? You can’t live with ‘em, but you can’t live without ‘em.”

Craigs face drops and Tweek can tell he’s just touched on a sore spot. He crosses his arms and leans on the bar across from Tweek staring intently at the glass in front of the blonde. “That’s not the case for everyone…”

Tweek frowns. He reaches across the space between them and settles a warm hand on Craig’s forearm. The noirette looks up into those startling blue eyes. “I’m sorry for whatever it is that’s giving you those sad eyes, Craig.” Tweek says softly, “If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears. If anyone can sympathise with fucked up family situations, it’s me. But… if you don’t want to talk about it, then let's have a drink and forget about our problems.” Tweek releases his forearm and leans back in his stool, smiling. “And I won’t take no for an answer. It’s my birthday and I would like 2 shots of tequila, please.” He once again holds out his card to Craig, an offer to buy the raven haired man a drink for his troubles.

Craig can’t help but smirk back at the blonde enigma sitting on the other side of the bar. Craig retrieves the bottle of Jose Cuervo, two shot glasses, some lime wedges and a salt shaker. 

“Now we’re talking!” Tweek laughs and Craig can’t help but smile back at him. He pours out the 2 shots, glasses filled to the brim. Tweek licks the back of his hand before shaking the salt there. Craig does the same a moment later. 

“Cheers,” Tweek says, raising his shot glass.

“Salud.” Craig raises his own glass in return.

Craig tries not to stare as Tweek licks the back of his hand before tipping his head back, pink lips grazing the rim of the shot glass. He definitely tries not to stare at the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, or the adorable way his face scrunches up as he sucks on the lime.

Craig takes his own shot a moment later, turning and throwing the wedge of lime into a bin about 6 feet away from him. “My family and I don’t talk anymore.” He turns back towards Tweek who is whose enormous blue eyes watched him with rapt attention. “They kicked me out of the house with nowhere to go when I was 16 when my dad realised that he couldn’t beat or pray the gay out of me.” Craig picks up the little pile of torn up coaster confetti that Tweek made and sprinkles it back onto the counter. “I spent the next 2 years living out of shelters and crashing on friends' couches while trying to get my highschool diploma. I invited my parents to my graduation, asking them to put their pride aside to see their only son graduate. My dad’s only response was ‘I no longer have a son’...” Craig painfully swallows the lump that has formed in his throat, “and that was the last time I spoke to my parents and that was just over 5 years ago now...” Craig hasn’t spoken about this with anyone other than his best friends, Clyde and Token, but for some reason, he feels like he can trust Tweek with this tender part of his past.

Tweek’s heart aches at hearing Craig’s experience. He has always known how lucky he is that he has parents who have always been supportive about his sexuality (even if they could be overbearing or exploitive with it at times), but hearing what Craig went through really drives it home for him. He has no idea what he’s supposed to say to Craig. Is there anything he even can say? 

Craig is still repeatedly picking up and sprinkling the little bits of coaster onto the bar when Tweek rests his warm freckled hand on top of Craig’s right hand, bringing his fidgeting to a halt. He runs his thumb comfortingly along the back of Craig’s hand as he tries to catch Craig’s eyes with his own. When brown eyes finally lock onto blue, Tweek says the only thing that comes to his mind. “Fuck them, they don’t deserve you.”

Craig looks a little dumbstruck, unsure what to say, but it doesn’t matter because Tweek doesn’t wait for a reply before he continues. “I’ve spent all of half an hour with you Craig, and I can already tell that you’re a really amazing guy, and if your parents couldn’t get over the fact that you like dick to see that, then they’re fucking stupid and you’re better off without them.”

Craig can feel heat flood his cheeks. The combination of Tweeks warm hand on his and the kind words has him blushing like a schoolgirl for the second time that night. At that moment, he decides that he can’t let Tweek leave without asking for his number.

Tweek retracts his hand from Craig’s. He’s worried that he’s overstepped a boundary. Craig’s parents sound toxic but they’re still his family and he might not take too kindly to some half-tanked random calling them idiots. One look at Craig’s coy smile though tells him that he’s not too bothered with the blonde’s choice words. He actually looks quite pleased.

“Thank you, Tweek.” 

Tweek is only just realising how good looking Craig is. Tweek has always had a thing for tall, lanky guys with dark hair and sarcastic wit. He’s a bit ashamed of himself that it took him this long to realise that Craig is exactly his usual type. He decides to blame it on the fact that until 3 minutes ago, Tweek was fairly sure that Craig was straight. He didn’t even ping on Tweek’s “gaydar” at all, which was surprising for the blonde because he was known in his circle of friends for having a pretty accurate nose for these things. 

Now that he knew though, Tweek couldn’t stop noticing. Deep chestnut coloured eyes, roman nose and broad defined shoulders. Tan skin, thick black hair and straight white teeth framed by full lips with a deep cupid's bow. The blonde suddenly felt very hot under the collar. He realises with a start that he has been staring and not saying anything. “Anytime Craig…”

“Another shot then? This ones on me for the birthday boy.” Craig winks at him, pouring another round of Jose Cuervo into their empty shot glasses.

Tweek hastily grabs the glass and drains it, not bothering with the salt and lime this time. That cheeky wink directed his way knocked the wind out of Tweek’s lungs. He feels a bit giddy like a teenager with a crush. His head is buzzing from the alcohol, only just realising how drunk he is. He probably should stop drinking and go home, but he wants to keep talking to Craig.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” Craig chuckles, before throwing back his own shot. 

“So Craig,” Tweek says flirtily, index finger tracing the rim of the empty shot glass, “are you allowed to be drinking on the job? Or am I going to get you in trouble?” 

“Oh, I'm definitely not allowed but I’ll take my chances. Besides, you can’t drink alone on your birthday.”

“My very own knight in shining armour” Tweek giggles, hoping it sounds as coquettish as it does in his liquor-soaked brain.

Craig is pretty sure that the blonde is flirting with him. The thought causes an electric thrum of excitement to shoot up his spine. “If I’m a knight, does that make you my prince charming?”

“Trust me Craig,” Tweek starts to snicker, “there is nothing charming about me.” They both dissolve into laughter at that.

A throat clearing further down the bar draws craigs attention back to the fact that he is actually at work and he has a job to do. He excuses himself from Tweek’s company for a moment to pour a cheap glass of chardonnay for the woman waiting at the opposite end of the counter. When he comes back to Tweek, the blonde promptly asks for some water, his face flushed red from the alcohol (and maybe something else). As Craig passes him the glass of water, he asks a question, hoping Tweek knows that he doesn’t want the conversation to end just because they were interrupted. “So Tweek, you said you did an arts degree. What do you do for work?”

Tweek wears an impish grin on his blushing face. “Guess. I’ll give you a hint; it’s pretty fucking gay.”

Craig chuckles. “Alright then, are you an actor?”

“Ha! No, not an actor. Although, I have been in a few plays. Just nothing I’ve ever been paid for.”

“Are you a hairdresser?”

Tweek gives him another sardonic glare and points at the knot of curls on top of his head. “Would any self-respecting hairdresser have a mess like this for hair? And since when do you need a degree to be a hairdresser?!”

“A diploma or whatever, i don't know” Craig chuckles. He’s not really sure what even constitutes a  _ gay job  _ and he’s about to give up when he spots Tweek’s bag out of the corner of his eye.

“Are you an artist?”

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!” Tweek laughs. “So what gave me away?”

“I just have an intuition for these things,” Craig smirks at the handsome blonde. The flicker of those brown eyes towards the book bag on the counter gives him away.

“It was the paint marks on my bag, wasn’t it?

“Yeah, it was the paint marks on your bag.” They once again dissolve into laughter. Tweek can’t help but think it’s pretty fucking gay how much he’s giggling but he can’t help it. He feels giddy.

“Do you specialise in a specific medium?”

Tweek sips at his water, wetting his mouth before replying. “I work with most mediums, but I teach painting and pottery specifically.”

“Pottery?” Craig ponders, “That’s the one with the clay and the wheel right? They do it in that scene from Ghost with Patrick Swayze.”

“Yes!” Tweek laughs, “God, I remember watching that scene for the first time, getting all hot and bothered over a shirtless Swayze and all that sexual tension to the soundtrack of Unchained Melody.”

“That’s right, I knew there was a reason I remembered that scene specifically. I always did have a crush on him after seeing dirty dancing for the first time.”

“Nobody puts Baby in the corner!” They both say at the exact same time, before cackling with laughter all over again. 

Craig wishes his friends could see him now. They’re always saying how Craig is a monotonous, apathetic asshole. They would likely die from shock if they saw how smiley and animated he became around this captivating art teacher. 

Craig and Tweek spend the next hour before closing talking and laughing, only being interrupted once more by another customer. The bar was pretty empty thanks to it being a Monday night. By the time the clock hits 11:30pm and Craig has finished settling the till, he knows that Tweek is an only child (“my parents could barely raise one child let alone two”), he plays piano (“since I was 6 years old”) and his favourite colour is the blue-green of a spruce tree as it reminds him of the mountain town he grew up in. 

Tweek’s learnt that Craig has a sister called Tricia (“but everyone calls her Ruby”) who he still stays in contact with, he is also single (Tweek thanks whatever gay angel is looking out for him for that one), he’s currently at college part time studying to be a social worker (“I want to help kids who are going through what I went through”) and he has two guinea pigs called Stripe #6 and Delilah that he is smitten with. Tweek doesn’t ask what happened to Stripe one through five, deciding that it’s a story for another time.

Craig locks up the door of the bar behind them as they leave. Tweek hooks his bag over his left shoulder and gestures to the road behind him, “I’m heading this way.”

“Let me drive you home,” Craig offers.

“No, it’s fine. It’s only a 5 minute walk.” Tweek smiles at him.

“Well then I’ll walk with you.” Craig’s not quite ready to let the night end just yet.

“Craig, you don’t have t-”

“Shhh Tweek,” Craig interrupts, “what kind of knight in shining armour would I be if I let you walk home alone in the middle of the night?” He gives the blonde a sheepish smile, grabbing his forearm and turning them both around to walk in the direction he had pointed.

Tweek laughs as he’s dragged along. “You don’t even know where you’re going!”

“Well, then show me.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to know where I live? You could be some crazed axe murderer that befriends unsuspecting gay guys at the bar before you kill them!” Tweek teases, fake panic in his voice.

Craig releases the blondes forearm and turns around, walking backwards in front of Tweek, “Wow, you got me. My master plan is foiled.” he says in a flat monotone. It's a stark contrast to the smirk stretching his lips.

“Watch out behind you, psycho killer.” Tweek laughs, pointing at something behind Craigs head. The noirette turns around just in time to stop himself from walking head first into a lamp post.

They walk in relative silence for the next few minutes, enjoying the balmy summer night. August could be unbearably hot during the day, but the nights were always warm and tranquil. Tweek and Craig walk side by side, elbows grazing and hands bumping together every so often. Not for the first time that night, Tweek feels like a teenager with a crush.

“This is me,” Tweek says as they approach a brownstone apartment complex.

They both hesitate as they stand at the bottom of the stairs leading to the foyer, neither of them quite ready to say goodbye or muster up the courage to ask to see the other again.

“I had fun tonight,” Craig says nervously. He’s not sure why after flirting all night, it was so hard to ask for his number. He’s 97% sure Tweek wouldn't turn him down, but his ribs feel full of butterflies all the same.

“Me too.” Tweek smiles at him, straight white teeth glowing in the streetlight. The blonde takes a minute step closer towards Craig, causing the noirettes heart rate to spike. He’s so close that he can see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes and the freckles dusted across his face.

_ Fuck it _ Craig thinks.

“Tweek,” Craig reaches across the space between them, timidly taking Tweek’s hand into his own, “I hope this isn’t too forward but... can I kiss you?”

Tweek bites his lip, trying to stifle his smile. He would love to kiss Craig but... “No.”

Craig’s face falls. He starts to think that he misread the entire situation. Was he imagining all that flirting? He could have sworn that Tweek was as into him just as much as he was into Tweek...

Tweek seeing Craig’s solemn expression feels his heart melt. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a pen. He raises the hand that Craig has clasped in his own and turns it over so that the noirettes tan forearm is exposed to the streetlight. He bites the pen cap off between his teeth and starts to write his mobile number on Craig’s skin. “I have a rule about not kissing men I meet in bars,” Tweek says, words muffled by the pen lid. He finishes off his number, recaps the pen and looks Craig in the eyes, “but, I have no rule about kissing on the first date…” Tweek brings Craigs hand up to his lips, kissing his knuckles delicately, “you just have to ask me out first.”

Craig feels himself blush. The way Tweek is looking at him under his eyelashes lights a fire in his belly. He leans in and kisses him on the cheek, before stepping back and releasing the blonde’s hand. “You’ll be hearing from me, Tweek.”

“I hope so, Craig.”

The blonde turns around and starts up the stairs towards the door. Craig can’t help but notice the way his tight, blue jeans curve around his ass and cling to his slender legs. As Tweek reaches the top stair, Craig calls out to him.

“Hey Tweek!”

Tweek turns around to face the tall noirette leaning against the streetlamp at the bottom of the stairs. “Yeah?”

“I hope you had a good birthday in the end.”

Tweek smiles, “It started off rocky, but I think that it ended pretty well… I can’t imagine how it could have ended much better than this...” 

He waves at Craig before turning and disappearing through the foyer door. Craig’s heart flutters in his chest as his thumb traces the number on his forearm. He pulls out his mobile and looks at the time. 11:48pm. Challenge accepted, Tweek.

He dials the number and waits 3 rings before it’s picked up.”

“Hello?”

“Hey, Tweek.” He smiles against the cool glass of his iPhone, “It’s me, Craig... I’m not sure if you remember me, but I was the bartender that you gave your number to earlier tonight.”

Tweek chuckles, “that does sound familiar.”

“Great, well I was wondering if you were free this Friday for dinner? Say around 7pm?”

Tweek hums on the other end, acting like he’s thinking about it. “Well… I guess I could clear my schedule...”

“Great,” Craig smiles so widely, he’s sure his face will split in half. “It’s a date then.”

“It’s a date.” He can hear the smile in Tweek’s voice.. 

Craig can’t stop grinning. He never would have thought when he went to work this evening that it would have ended like this.

“Well... you did it Craig. I said that today couldn’t have ended any better than it had, but you proved me wrong. I’m very impressed.”

“I hope I can continue to impress you on Friday night.”

“I’m sure you will.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, before Craig's soft voice fills Tweek’s ears. “Happy Birthday Tweek.”

To think that if he didn’t have that awful dinner with his parents, he never would have come to this dive bar and then he never would have met Craig. He almost feels grateful towards his parents for fucking up his birthday. 

“Thanks Craig” Tweek beams. It’s been a very happy birthday indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I’ve had this idea in my head for a while and knew I had to post it for Tweeks birthday. I hope you liked it!
> 
> If you did like it (or even if you didn't), let me know what you think! All of your comments and kudos keep me going, especially during these crazy and uncertain times.
> 
> Stay safe everyone!  
> \- Alice


End file.
